Bella Bachelor Shrine
by LifeLongOcean
Summary: My contribution to the tiny fandom of the Sims. -you know, there aren't a lot of Sims fanfictions out there. That's kind of expected, though, lol. But ye-I get really shameful whenever I read fanfiction of Sims. It's kind of weird. But anyways, I decided everyone loved Bella (including myself) and that I'd write about her...The title makes me tempted to make my pen name "Mortimer".
1. (Age 10) A Day for Bella

"Bella, dear, could you wake your brother up?" my mother asked me. I nodded. "Got it, mom." I ran to my brother Micheal's room and set his alarm clock to ring in one minute, that would do the trick.

Fortunately, the alarm clock ring and Micheal groggily woke up. I saw him come down as my parents and I ate breakfast. He was a bit grumpy.

"Micheal, why didn't you get up earlier?" my father strictly questioned Micheal. Due to his grumpiness, Micheal responded sassily.

"Because. I just didn't feel like waking up. I didn't even do anything wrong, so don't even try to chastise me..." Micheal usually isn't like this. It's just that he woke up to a loud alarm clock in his ear this this, my father obviously didn't like the attitude. But what could he do? We had to leave for the bus soon.

"Fine, go." my dad grumbled before storming into the kitchen. My mother awkwardly followed him as my brother ordered me to hurry up and get him a snack from the kitchen.

-bro-

We're the Bachelors-a name my father hold much pride in.

Everyone in Sunset Valley thinks we're really stereotypical as a family, but I love them genuinely. My father's strict, but truly kind. My mother is, very much, motherly; and Micheal seems like your typical teenage boy. I'm just Bella. My mother always gloats over how polite and proper my brother and I are seen in our town. Neither of us really have much of an opinion on that-but I guess that's your daily dose of exposition!

-bro-

After school, my brother had gotten over his grumpiness, and he and my father were on good terms again. Soon after getting off the bus, Micheal had raced into the house to apologize to our father. Our father immediately accepted it, stating that it was just a 'bad morning' and that he 'hoped that won't happen again'. Micheal promised it wouldn't-a promise that has a chance at being broken...

My homework was starting to get a little difficult for me-we were beginning Life Science, you see-and I asked my mother to invite a friend of mine's over to help me out.

"Mom, may I invite a friend over to help me with homework?" I asked. My mother looked a bit concerned.

"Yes, you may, but what do you need help with? Maybe I could help instead." She glanced warily at my homework notebook. I shook my head. "No thank you, I find it funner with my friend. But thank you very much for the offer!" With that, I ran to my find the phone.

Once I got to the phone, I dialed in the number. After a little waiting, my friend picked up.

"Hello?" His voice was clear.

"Hey! This is Bella."

"Oh, hey Bella." I could hear a bit of yelling on the other side. I grimaced, trying to imagine who it was.

"Er...is anything going on?"

"Parents just sort of...fighting, I guess." No wonder he sounded so glum.

"Well, if you need an excuse to get out, I need some help on my homework. Think you could come over to help me?" I asked.

"Sure. I'll be there in a few minutes." He hung up.

-bro-

Mortimer is my best friend. He's kind of a grump, which makes all the other kids in town avoid him, but I love him very much. I prefer him to my brother, honestly. He's really smart, and I come to him for help most of the time. His parents founded Sunset Valley, in fact, and I'm pretty sure they're divorcing.

One thing that I find odd about him is his last name. It's pretty unusual to find a person whose last name correlates with them as a person. Take my last name into example-nobody in my family has ever been a Bachelor. Unless Micheal becomes one, but oh well. Mortimer's last name is Goth-and one thing I noticed is his love for the color black. Not that he dresses up in black daily, but still. Black is a gothic color, right?

-bro-

Mortimer arrived on his bike. My dad was the one to greet him, and they chatted for a little before coming in. Micheal went up to my friend and gave him a friendly hug before asking how his day was.

My family is rather fond of Mortimer-particularly my brother. Micheal's pretty good friends with Mortimer, and it's kind of comforting to think that I brought in a new friend for him. I worry that he gets lonely sometimes.

Anyways, I had been waiting at the table for Mortimer to arrive. The moment he saw me, his normally dark and gloomy eyes brightened a little.

"Hi Bella." he greeted me, with a downcast voice. Don't fret, because I know for sure his eyes brightened-just a little, but still-even though his voice is still gloomy. I skipped over to hug him.

"How're you feeling, Mort?" I asked. He solemnly nodded a reply, whatever that meant.

After a bit of conversing on how the day was, and some news of new people coming to town, we went to our homework.

As stated in the exposition I gave before, Mortimer's a genius. I think he should be a scientist when he grows up. Whenever we have anything to do in Science, Mortimer is always doing better than the rest of us. This included homework.

Whenever I asked a question, Motimer would promptly give me a 5-minute speech on the topic. Sometimes, my parents or (more often) Micheal would attempt to help out, but Mortimer was always pulling out his lecure before they popped up.

By the time we both finished, the curfew for us children was near, and Mortimer had to go.

Micheal spent an excessive amount of time giving Mortimer 'bro-like' high-fives and 'man hugs'. My mother gave him some cookies to bring to his family, and my dad sent him home with a pat on the back.

-bro-

At family dinner, Micheal spoke about how his day went.

"You know, we're having prom soon, and I was thinking of asking Holly Alto out...I mean, we're pretty good friends and all, but I want to see if I can take it to the next step with her..." My mother congratulated my brother while my father choked over hearing the word 'Alto'.

My mother talked about her day sorting out books. "Somehow, a lady managed to give birth in the library! Today was very odd, indeed. I think it was an Ursine or something who was in labor." My father also choked over hearing the phrase 'in labor' as my brother and I excitedly probed her about the incident. Apparently, my mother was too freaked out to help with the delivery. Not that the lady truly needed help, of course.

I told everyone about this discussion I heard. It was from some teenagers-I think, the Bunch girl with pigtails, the babysitter that everyone thinks is a thief, and my classmate Miraj's older brother. They were talking about some 'woohoo-ing' and kissing and gross stuff like that. I guess I had been staring too intently, because soon, they realized my presence, and called me a 'gold digger' for 'wanting the Goth Kid's money'. The Bunch girl snickered and said that I'd be his 'personal postitude' or something like that, despite my protests.

My family seemed stunned over my tale. Micheal seemed angry about those teenagers mocking me, and said that this was the reason nobody even liked VJ. My mom was just silently shocked, and she struggled to rise from the table. My dad, for the third time this dinner, was choking over...whatever everyone else was flipping out over.

"No more," my father struggled to let out, "Bella, please go to you room.". Before I asked what was wrong, my mother added in, "For your father's sake-please." My mother was apparently trying not to faint. Micheal hurriedly led me to my room.

-bro-

**Well, that was one heck of a ride. I wrote this because I couldn't find a lot of good Bella Bachelor fanfictions. At first, I was really ashamed to write this, because who the heck writes a fanfiction over a game? But after a sudden surge of Beltimer/Mortibella feels, I just knew I had to.**


	2. (Age 11) Bella and the Goths

One time, when I came over and played chess against Mortimer (and utterly lost), I found out that Mortimer wasn't very good at taking compliments.

"You know, you're a big nerd. Like, really smart and stuff." I told him, amused at the sight of my defeat in our game. I expected him to take it in, like my older brother does. And brag about it even afterwards. And gloat about it to everyone else. (News Flash; my brother's kind of snobby.)

But Mortimer didn't take it like that. At all. He became extremely flustered, and _immRight,ediately_ started denying it.

"What? What do you mean, nerd? I'm not a nerd! I'm normal!" He got out of his seat and flailed his arms around. "See me? _Nor-mal!_"

His small episode caused me to laugh. "Not like _that _kind of nerd, the good nerd! Smart! But if you do that, I might not think you're normal!" My last statement caused Mortimer to turn red and simply mumble, "oh." He slumped back into his seat.

"So...that was a compliment, actually?" he mumbled, still a little bit embarrassed. I grinned at him. "Of course it was!" With that, his head fell. Behind him, I noticed Mortimer's dad staring at us. I was about to call him over, but walked off.

-:-)-

When I was eating dinner with the Goths (Spahgetti was 's favorite), whispered something into her son's ear. He looked comepletely mortified by whatever she had told him. His mother was giggling, and his father contently smiled.

"...how is your career going, ?" I asked him, masking my discomfort with enthusiasm. seemed delighted to answer. "It's going very well, thank you. How're your grades?" At this time, was teasing Mortimer over something he was embarrased about.

"My grades are doing well, especially with your son at my side." I smiled softly at Mortimer, who blushed and crossed his arms. "Right," he grumpily replied.

After a little bit, Mr. and left to the kitchen to bicker over who was going to wash the dishes. Mortimer and I were silent, and could hear the noticeable change from the couple bickering to them full-on arguing. The noise was agonizing.

I wanted to say something, but I put that off for a while just to stare at Mortimer, who was lowering his head (probably in shame or something). When I finally mustered the will to break the silence, he had already found something to say.

"Uh, Bella." he muttered. His head lowered even more. "You, uh, you-uh..." Mortimer couldn't seem to finish the sentence. I could tell he was trying to ask me something. I tried to help him out. "I...?"

"You...uh, you're...really, uh...really...pretty, er...and...-" When he stated this, the arguing in the back stopped. All was silent.

"...and, um...this is a compliment...because you complimented me...so thank you, and, uh...you're pretty. Yeah." Mortimer was probably about to fall out his seat or something with the way his head was lowered. I heard a facepalm come from the kitchen.

I was a bit taken back by this. To think I originally thought he was asking me to stay over tonight! "Do you mean it, or is it because your mom said to say that?" I could tell his parents were watching now-one of them said 'shit'.

"I'm saying it because I truly think you're beautiful." Mortimer confidently stared straight into my eyes, and I'm pretty sure if his eyes weren't so intent I'd say, "Gee, thanks!"

"T-this is really coming out of an eleven year old..." I breathed out. Finally, I regained my courage that had been taken for a second. "W-wow, Mort! You really had me going. If we get older you could really do something with that thing you just did. The eye thing. Like, my brother said something about some attractive guy being a 'sleaze'. You could be that!"

Mortimer finally took his eyes off me and gasped before falling to the floor. "Me...a sleaze..." he gasped.

His father dumped cold water on him as his mother sent me home with leftover spaghetti to give my family and gratefulness for a 'wonderful evening'.

**So. Hello there. :-) **

**I decided to change the -bro- thing because it looked kind of distracting. This excerpt is kind of just about one evening Bella had at the Goth Manor! Next up will be about the Bachelor family, and their tight-knitedness. If that's a word-oh, a red squiggly line popped up, it's not.**


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